


The Winter Soldier: Who Is Bucky Barnes?

by Indigo Kidneys (13DwarfStrong)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), captain america: the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Captain America - Freeform, Marvel - Freeform, The Winter Soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:47:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1525076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13DwarfStrong/pseuds/Indigo%20Kidneys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the revelation of Hydra and the swift demise by Captain America the world is on a tipping point of change. Yet amidst the turmoil a man is dazed and confused with one question on his mind: "Who the hell is Bucky Barnes?".</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Winter Soldier: Who Is Bucky Barnes?

**Author's Note:**

> -WARNING! This contains spoilers from the Marvel film Captain America: The Winter Soldier, many of the spoilers are key to the stories plot and it is recommended you see the film before reading this fic. All those who have please do enjoy. Thank You-

Smoke and fire rained down towards the concrete metropolis of Washington D.C. The revelation that Hydra had lured within the shadows S.H.I.E.L.D. was so familiar with stunned everyone. Most of all the men and woman who stood proudly holding the shield against the enemy, yet they were unaware till now that many who stood beside them were several feet behind enthralled by the eight red tentacles that unknowingly betrayed them. But amongst the ashy blaze, that was so well set by Captain America and those that stood through the events that followed the ‘death’ of Director Fury, a man stumbled away dazed and confused with one phrase running through his troubled mind. “Who the hell is Bucky Barnes?”

Clutching his red star branded arm he made his way through the crowds of people that had arrived around the wreckages of the fallen Helicarriers and the destroyed Triskelion. He took no notice of the people around him and they took no notice of him, with his head bowed he still retained the cold and frightening persona of the Winter Soldier. As he made his way further into the city the abyss of bystanders dissipated posing more of a chance for people to recognise him as a threat, an excuse to inform authorities. He could deal with trouble if he had to but right now he was wounded and would do better to avoid it for now, he needed time to think freely, something he had been deprived of for as long as he couldn’t remember. Down an alley he sought refuge from preying eyes. Amongst dumpsters and litter he found a homeless mans squat, a fire still lit unattended with a hooded jacket next to it. If he was going to get anywhere around Washington, never mind escape from it, then he needed to blend in or at the very least not cause any unwanted attention. Within the next few hours his face would be imprinted on the minds of everyone in the city, everyone will want to be responsible for the conviction of the man that dared to challenge Captain America. After applying the jacket and concealing his face he waited till nightfall before emerging from the ally, what he needed right now was a place to lie low and rest.

After carefully manoeuvring the streets of Washington D.C. he stumbled across a small motel, nothing special, quiet, exactly what he needed. He entered cautiously making sure his hood concealed most of his face and approached the reception desk.

“Hello sir, how can I help?”

He looked up just enough to see a redheaded woman stood behind the desk with a smile across her face.He took his time responding deciding which accent would best suit the current situation. In a Louisianan accent he spoke.

“Room for one night please”

“You’re lucky sir who’ve got a single room on the next floor left hand side, just let me get you the key”

Spoken just as pleasant as previously she went to a board behind her which contained the keys to the various rooms, he noticed the board was completely full except for the absence of one key which must have been the spare for her room. He smiled at her unintentional sarcasm while she retrieved. He realised suddenly this was new to him he had never had reason to smile, not that he could remember anyway.

“Here you are sir, as I said next floor on the left. Oh and if you need me during your stay I am Pam and my room should be just opposite yours”

She handed him the key for which he took and stowed within one of the jackets pockets. He responded.

“Spasibo”

Quickly realising his mistake he walked away as though to make nothing of the matter and bowed his head so he couldn’t see her reaction. He made his way to the apartment and with a calm tone of relief, a feeling of resolution, an eagerness to relax. The room was fairly basic with one simply bed, one window and a small bathroom comprised of a toilet shower and sink. Removing the jacket and throwing it on the bed he walking into the bathroom and placed himself in front of the sink and looked directly into a mirror. He examined a face he found familiar yet rare as though he recognised it yet couldn’t place a name. Running a tap he washed away the black smudges of paint across his eyes revealing small scratches and scars against the face of a young man.

“Who are you? Who am I? Am I you?”

Puzzled he dropped his head, horrified by the image of himself. Confusion boiled up inside him and over ruled him; he lashed out at the mirror with his silver arm smashing it to shards. He left the mess and sat down on the bed and laid back. The bed was soft something he couldn’t ever remember experiencing, he was used to hard tough surfaces; he was a soldier after all. The real challenge now was to sleep, or at least attempt to.

“Barnes?!” blared a loud authoritative voice.

“Private Barnes!” At that moment he opened his eyes quickly. There stood a man a World War 2 Army uniform, tall, aged and directly fixed on him. “Private Barnes, stand to attention already!” With a closer look he recognised the man as Colonel Chester Philips a man whom worked for the SSR in the war. He tried to reply to the Colonel but couldn’t find the words to say. The Colonel walked towards him and shook fist at him, as he neared closer and closer his face changed to that of Alexander Pierce.

“You’re a soldier nothing more and you will die as one with no honour at all, hail Hydra!”

Distressed he woke, checking a bedside clock next to him he had only been out for a few minutes, but for what felt like hours of pain. A leaflet caught his eye onto of the clock, he hadn’t recognised it before. He sat himself up on the bed and examined the leaflet. It read “Come to The Smithsonian Institute and stand in awe at the living legend Captain America exhibit!” If Bucky Barnes was going to be found anywhere the best place would be to start with who knew him. He grabbed his jacket and made his way back out the door.

“Let’s see if the Star Spangled Man has a plan after all”.


End file.
